


when the sun was swallowed by the night

by rinny_berry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ??? i think, Canon-Typical Violence, Chapter 4 contains a brief description of:, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Hubert and Ferdie love each other but they're also very dumb and won't admit it, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Minor Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic life partners my entire ass, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), TW: Panic Attacks, Vampire Turning, no one survives war unscathed, tw: gore, tw: major character injury, vampire!ferdinand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinny_berry/pseuds/rinny_berry
Summary: He was going to strangle Hubert, Ferdinand decided. Of course, in his heart, he knew the man wasn’t to blame for his current situation, but Ferdinand just wanted to visit his friends, Sothis damn it! Evidently, it was too soon for such pleasantries.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 54
Kudos: 181
Collections: Sun & Moon 《Ferdibert》





	1. Chapter 1

In hindsight, Ferdinand should’ve known his luck would run out.

Not a year had passed since the war ended, of course there would still be danger on the roads! Those Who Slither in the Dark didn’t care that he was on a mere day trip to visit Caspar and Linhardt before they left to travel Fódlan - they only cared that he was at his most vulnerable.

Better him than catching those two, Ferdinand supposed. Caspar and Linhardt were powerful former generals themselves, but there were only two of them. The professor insisted that he be accompanied by at least a small battalion on his little excursion. Ferdinand shuddered and dared not think of what would happen if the Slitherers chose those two as their targets and not him.

But even so, it was a little frustrating!

“Oh, the roads will be safer at night, Ferdinand! They will not expect it, Ferdinand!” the noble scowled, his voice deep and guttural, mocking a certain dark mage, as he felled three Agarthan footsoldiers with one deadly swing of his lance. “Ferdinand, do not be daft, he said - they will not harm you, he said. _Come and tell them that then, von Vestra!”_

He was going to strangle Hubert, Ferdinand decided. Of course, in his heart, he knew the man wasn’t to blame for his current situation, but Ferdinand just wanted to visit his friends, Sothis damn it! Evidently, it was too soon for such pleasantries.

A pity, Ferdinand thought. And here he thought things were getting better.

Ferdinand fell back into the habits of war like slipping on a well-worn sweater. Snap the reins, adjust the lance, slash, dart back, rinse, repeat. Hack, slash, readjust - there’s a mage on the left - stab, swing, canter back.

“How many of you are there?!” Ferdinand finally exclaimed as he lost his lance in the chest of a soldier. The soldier just cackled even as blood gushed from his wound and he fell to the ground. But when he fell, he was replaced by more fighters, matching twisted grins on their dry, cracked, bloodless lips.

“We got your back, General!” Ferdinand watched as his men swarmed the Slitherers and took them down with the grace of true soldiers. He made a mental note to personally commend them once they got back to Enbarr. But that was for later - he had to fight to stay alive first. But Ferdinand was a paladin, a fighter on horseback, and Ferdinand could tell that his horse wasn’t going to last much longer.

Giselle, his poor mare, wasn’t made for fighting. Felicity, his warhorse, had been retired to live her life out to pasture once the war ended. Ferdinand had selected Giselle as his next horse, should he ever have to fight again, but it was too soon for her to be in skirmishes. She behaved admirably, like a true Aegir bred horse, but Ferdinand could feel her back muscles flex under his legs, twitching with the strain of the fight. She was going to collapse if he didn’t end the fight soon. “Ah, hells. Cover me!” he called and wheeled Giselle around, galloping into the trees.

He slid out of the saddle with practiced ease and deftly tied the reins to a tree behind a thicket. “There’s a good girl, Giselle,” he soothed, running a gloved hand over her nose. “I’ll be right back, dear.”

With a sigh, he unstrapped his axe from his saddle and turned it over a couple of times in his hands. His expertise was with lances, but he was an Aegir, and an Aegir had to be proficient in all sorts of weaponry. He disliked axes most of all, however. Edelgard was a master with them, which triggered bitter, jealous memories from his childhood. But another, vainer, pettier reason was that he would most definitely be splattered with more gore than he would normally be.

“Of all the days to wear a low collar,” Ferdinand cursed, tugging the collar of his shirt as high as it could go. Instead of his usual high-collared coat, he was dressed in a simple double-breasted coat - no fabric went past the base of his neck and now he felt terribly exposed. To make matters worse, he had opted out of wearing his pauldrons; why would he wear armor for a simple outing? Hubert would scold him for his carelessness when they returned to Enbarr, that much was certain.

There was nothing else to do except to return to the battle, Ferdinand decided and hefted his axe in his hands.

Peacetime had dulled his senses, Ferdinand would think later. Then again, most soldiers would fight with their weapons first, not with their teeth.

Giselle whinnied sharply, a soldier screamed out, and as Ferdinand turned to see what the fuss was about, a Slitherer rushed him barehanded, her mouth wide open, revealing rows and rows of sharp, ghastly looking teeth. Gods, Ferdinand couldn’t even call her mouth a mouth - it was just a gaping hole filled with monstrous fangs. Her lips were stretched tight, cracked and bleeding, struggling to contain the teeth within.

She slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground, forcing him to release his axe. She was a wiry thing, all limbs, but she had a strength like no other human he had ever faced, which really should’ve been his first warning sign.

Her hands pressed him into the ground, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her knees planted on either side of his torso. If Ferdinand was not concerned with escaping her unnatural grip, he would’ve been scandalized at the position he was in - but propriety was not the focus of his attention at the moment. He kicked and twisted with all of his strength, but to no avail. The Slitherer leered at him, her eyes cloudy with a hazy gleam that Ferdinand had come to recognize as a sign of Agarthan experiments.

And he was at her mercy.

Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that was addling his brain, but all Ferdinand could think of in that moment was the lecture he was going to get from Hubert and Edelgard and maybe even the Professor.

The Slitherer’s lips curled up in a cruel smile that was more of a snarl as flecks of saliva dripped from her fangs onto his cheeks. Ferdinand’s eyes flicked to hers and in that split second, she fell upon his neck and there was only pain, pain, _pain-!_

-and then she shrieked, a long, drawn-out howl, her knife-like nails piercing through the thick fabric of his coat and puncturing his skin, and now Ferdinand was screaming - or was he already screaming? Then she was gone and a familiar head of light blue hair hovered just above him, shouting, “_Lin! I found him!”_

Ah, so it was Caspar, Ferdinand managed to think even through the pain that threatened to drag him into the depths of unconsciousness. Linhardt appeared in his view, hands already outstretched and glowing with Faith magic. The familiar sensation of Linhardt’s healing magic washed over him, dousing the fire of his raw pain into a dull ache.

“Goddess above, Ferdinand, what happened?” Linhardt murmured as his hands ghosted over his neck wound. “What was that? Was she even human?”

“Looks like it to me - _oh, fuck me, that’s a lot of teeth, what the fuck?!”_

A loud _squelch_ and a thud. Caspar must’ve taken his axe out of the body and turned it face up. Graceless as ever, Ferdinand supposed, but that’s what made Caspar Caspar.

“Let me see, Caspar, hold her up,” Linhardt took his hands away from Ferdinand’s throat and turned expectantly to Caspar. The paladin huffed a sigh of relief and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Caspar was planted in front of the corpse, arms stretched wide to block his partner’s vision. “Lin, you really don’t wanna see this.”

“Caspar, I’ve literally put your guts back in your body-”

“No, I’m serious, this is super gross-”

“-I think I can handle whatever it is you don’t want me to see-”

“-like this is disgusting, Ferdinand, back me up here, will you-”

“-this could be a breakthrough in understanding Agarthan magic-”

“-Linhardt, I know you’ve gotten better with the whole blood thing, but this is a whole other level-”

“-so for Sothis’ sake, _let me see-_!” Linhardt shoved Caspar to the side and promptly fainted dead away.

Caspar caught Linhardt just before he hit the ground and lifted his eyes to the night sky, sighing deeply. “I tried to tell him,” he groaned. “He’s stubborn when he wants to be.” Ferdinand just shrugged and staggered to his feet. Caspar readjusted Linhardt in his arms and got up easily, much to Ferdinand’s embarrassment. So what if he had just been mauled by some Slitherer experiment? He was an Aegir, for the Goddess’ sake!

Caspar turned to him, Linhardt limp in his arms. “So, uh, can we hitch a ride back with you to Enbarr? Lin’s gonna want to research the hell out of whatever that is once he gets over the shock.”

Ferdinand frowned, reaching up to brush his now horribly messy fringe from his eyes as he began walking towards his battalion. “I thought you were going to travel within a few days?”

“Yeah, but there’s no way I’m taking him with _that thing_ running around Fódlan,” The other man shrugged, gently shifting Linhardt so that his head rested in the curve of Caspar’s neck. Linhardt’s face scrunched up and he curled further into Caspar’s embrace. Caspar smiled down at him. “Besides, I know Linhardt would be restless if we left without him taking a closer look at it. Can’t do that to him when he gave up everything to travel with me.”

Ferdinand blinked. “That was… oddly sweet, coming from you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I’m plenty sweet!”

“Yes, yes, of course you are, Caspar. Come along now, we have a lot of ground to cover if we want to make it back at a decent time - oh,” Ferdinand turned on his heel to glare disdainfully at the limp corpse of his assailant. “We’ll have to find a way to transport the poor thing, won’t we?”

Caspar glanced over his shoulder and made a face. “Yeesh. Well, if you want, we can head back to our place for our wagon.”

Ferdinand sighed and hung his head. “That would be greatly appreciated, Caspar, thank you.”

And then Ferdinand blanched - he had left a sizeable stack of paperwork on his desk that he planned to get to once he returned! Oh, Ferdinand was really in for it now. He had promised to be back before morning, and now with the battle and the detour for the wagon, he was going to be back by midday - and that would be without any breaks!

“Oh, Saints help me,” Ferdinand breathed and followed after Caspar, but not after sparing a glance at the… thing on the ground. Unconsciously, he lifted his hand to cover his wound. His eyes widened slightly as his fingers traced over the marks: two little punctures at the base of his neck.

Strange.

It wasn’t that deep of a wound, now that Ferdinand thought about it. Linhardt’s magic should’ve wiped his skin clean.

Perhaps it was the excitement, the anxiousness of being back on the battlefield after nearly a year of peace that caused him to err. Yes, that must be it, Ferdinand thought. He didn’t dare allow himself to think of another reason as to why the small wounds still remained. He would just have to ask Linhardt to reexamine him once he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you all to know that the file name for this fic is titled "vampire ferdinand but the decidedly unsexy version." No sex in this fic, sorry if you were looking for that here.
> 
> Hubert doesn't show up yet, but don't worry. He'll be here ;D


	2. Chapter 2

They arrived at Enbarr around late afternoon the next day - Linhardt had woken up and demanded that the company take a break. “Don’t argue with me, von Aegir, I’m a healer,” he had snapped with an irritated fire in his eyes. Who was Ferdinand to contradict the man who almost single-handedly kept the Black Eagle Strike Force alive during the war? 

At the time, Ferdinand thought that listening to Linhardt was in his best interests if he wanted to return alive. He was quickly proven wrong, however, when he saw who was waiting for him at the palace entrance. 

Hubert glared down at him from the top of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, his jet black cloak billowing in the wind, making him seem even larger than he really was. Hubert, Ferdinand expected, but his blood turned to ice when he saw who was standing just behind him. 

Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, First of Her Name, the Slayer of Dragons in all of her crimson glory stepped out into the setting sun, light glinting off of her gold headpiece. And beside her, Byleth appeared, silent as death, peering at Ferdinand’s approaching figure with eyes that pierced his soul. Ferdinand swallowed a lump in his throat and gripped the reins of his horse tightly, stamping down the urge to turn tail and run from the three most powerful people in the land. 

But he was the Prime Minister Ferdinand von Aegir. It wouldn’t do for him to flee from the only other people in the country who were of his rank or outranked him entirely. So he squared his shoulders and slid out of his saddle, holding his chin high and raising a hand in greeting, a smile on his lips. “My apologies for the late return, Your Majesty, there was a bit of an incident on the way back!” he called. 

Byleth was the first to move, gliding down the stairs in a whirl of dark fabric before coming to a stop in front of Ferdinand. Her sharp eyes were even more intimidating up close, but Ferdinand held their gaze. Then she nodded and patted Ferdinand on the shoulder. “You had us worried, Ferdinand. Being late is… uncharacteristic of you,” she said plainly. 

Ferdinand nodded. The professor no longer had the Crest Stone in her chest (which was a shock to hear, once she told him about it), and was still getting used to expressing the feelings that she now felt so strongly. But Ferdinand, contrary to popular belief, was quite adept at picking up other people’s feelings - Byleth truly was worried for him and was trying to express her relief. He would gladly accept her attempt at communication, even if it did frighten him a little. 

He pressed a hand to his heart and dipped into a shallow bow. “Were it up to me, I would have been back precisely at the time I had promised to return. However-,” Ferdinand gestured to the large wagon that had not been with him when he set off and raised his voice so that the two on top of the stairs could hear him. “-I am not always beset by _ bandits _ on the way to the capital, Professor.”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed. Out of the corner of his eye, Ferdinand saw Hubert sigh deeply and pinch the bridge of his nose. Edelgard was the picture of the perfect emperor, calm and poised - but Ferdinand had known them long enough to know that each movement outside of certain rooms was carefully choreographed for the public eye. He knew the war they were waging behind the scenes; he was a part of it, after all. It really wouldn’t do if Ferdinand, as one of the Emperor’s closest advisors, did not even know of Those Who Slither in the Dark. 

It truly pained him when Edelgard and Hubert finally told the Black Eagles of their secret war against the remnants of the once prosperous Agarthans. It hurt him, of course, to know that he wasn’t trusted to be a part of those plans, but he had matured enough to realize that they acted according to what they thought would be best. What hurt even more was when the realization sunk in that two of the people that he held closest to his heart had been fighting a whole other war, completely unbeknownst to their allies all for the sake of their future. 

It made him think back to their days as students at the Officers’ Academy and even to the days of the war. The abrupt ends to hushed conversations whenever he approached, the days where every emotion on Edelgard’s face was strained, the way Hubert was eternally on edge, gloved hands always twitching minutely at his side, as if he was moments away from firing a spell - and Ferdinand supposed he was. The poor man was always the first around every corner, eyes darting every which way, searching for goddess knows what.

Yes, Ferdinand knew better now. He knew just how dangerous their enemy could be, and even if he didn’t, he could at least guess by the way Hubert rushed down the stairs to inspect the wagon.

Well. Hubert walked _almost briskly _down the stairs, which was practically sprinting for him in Ferdinand’s eyes. 

Byleth sighed and turned to watch as the ends of Hubert’s cloak disappeared behind the wagon. “Do I want to know what’s back there?” she asked. 

A shrill shriek pierced the air and Caspar stumbled out of the wagon. Caspar turned right back around, hands on his hips. “Hey! How come Linhardt gets to stay?” 

Linhardt’s head poked out above the walls of the wagon, one eyebrow quirked as he just gave Caspar a _ look_. “Do you _ really _want to spend more time looking at this thing?”

Caspar sighed. “Man, I guess not. Oh, hey, Edelgard, didn’t see you there.”

Ferdinand jolted as Edelgard swept past him to follow Hubert. She raised an elegant hand and patted Caspar on the back as she passed him. “Good to see you, Caspar. I thought you two were leaving in a few days?”

“Yeah, but then this happened and I figured dealing with this would take a while.”

“Surely it shouldn’t take that long - oh. I see.”

Ferdinand and Byleth exchanged a glance and then they too were walking over to inspect the body lying in the bed of the wagon. Ferdinand had to suppress a gag. The cloth they had used to cover the corpse had been tossed away, revealing what was left of the Slitherer in all of its bloody glory. 

Rigor mortis had set in nearly immediately after death and despite his lack of medical knowledge, Ferdinand knew that wasn’t normal. Its hands were curled up into its chest - Ferdinand shuddered as the sunlight flashed against the knife-like nails. (Or were they actually knives implanted into the nail bed…?) Its jaws hung open, revealing multiple rows of unnaturally sharp fangs. 

Ferdinand’s hand came up to brush against his neck. He had told Linhardt of the remaining marks and Linhardt had tried to heal it again, but they still lingered. They would have to take another look at it in the lab, Linhardt had told him. 

He felt a burning gaze and he glanced down to meet Byleth’s blue eyes. Her eyes darted to his hand over his neck and then back up to his eyes. 

Ah, damn. He was caught. Nothing could get past the professor. 

He turned his attention back to the grisly scene before him. Hubert knelt by the Slitherer’s head, gingerly inspecting the gaping maws of the once human creature. In one hand he held its jaws open and in the other, a small magnifying glass. 

Linhardt was on the opposite end, gently prodding the side of its leg. “Hubert, look at this,” he called and poked it again, this time leaving his finger pressed against its skin. A deep purple color bloomed around his finger and Hubert hummed thoughtfully. Linhardt nodded and stood up, allowing himself to be helped down by Caspar, who had also made his way over. 

Hubert followed suit and moved to stand by Ferdinand, brushing against his shoulder before leaning down to dust off the legs of his jodhpurs. Ferdinand chuckled and plucked a bit of grass from Hubert’s hair. “Hello to you too, Hubert,” he said, grinning as Hubert straightened up to his full height. 

Hubert gave him a small smile - more of a smirk, really - and dipped his head in greeting. “Hello, Ferdinand. I am glad to see that you have not died.”

Ferdinand laughed and shook his head. “One does not go against the Immaculate One and live only to be taken down by mere bandits,” Ferdinand’s smile slid off of his face as he turned again to the thing in the wagon. “Although, I do have to say that I have never seen a bandit quite like this.”

“Yes, I think this calls for further inspection,” Edelgard sighed, leaning ever so slightly against Byleth, who supported her without even a blink. “Shall we take this inside, my friends?”

“I will bring tea to your office, Your Majesty,” Hubert bowed lowly, one hand to his heart and the other folded politely behind him. He straightened up and the fondness that was in his eyes when Ferdinand first rode in was gone, replaced by a dark, stormy frustration. “Ferdinand, if you would please assist me.”

Ferdinand had no choice, really, but to follow after Hubert, feeling quite like a lamb being led to slaughter. Edelgard and the Professor both gave him amused smiles as he passed - the Professor even _waved. _

Oh, Ferdinand was really in for it now.

* * *

Hubert prepared the tea in silence while Ferdinand worked diligently to find a set of china that had enough cups and saucers for the six of them. Ferdinand moved gingerly around Hubert, as if one wrong move would trigger the anger Ferdinand could practically _feel _radiating off of the other man. 

“...you could’ve died today, Ferdinand,” Hubert finally growled out, low and dangerous. “Not bringing your armor with you - I thought you had grown out of such foolishness. Or perhaps you have grown soft during this time of peace.”

Ferdinand sighed and began arranging the saucers on a simple carrying tray. “It was meant to be a simple day trip, Hubert. There hadn’t been a single report of-,” Ferdinand’s eyes darted about the kitchen, tensing a bit as he scanned over a few servants. “-bandits in weeks. It was foolish to think I was safe, but I don’t recall you saying anything when you saw me off that morning.”

Was it really only a day ago that Hubert had helped Ferdinand into Giselle’s saddle, even though Ferdinand was very much capable of getting himself up? It was early morning when he departed, the sun’s rays just barely peeking out from behind the mountains. Hubert was already up - Ferdinand personally thought that Hubert hadn’t actually gone to bed the night before - and decided to leave his office and personally send Ferdinand off. 

“You would create quite a fuss if no one came to see you,” Hubert had sniffed, but they had been doing this song and dance for too long for Ferdinand not to pick up on the affection tinging his voice. Ferdinand smiled down at him from atop his horse and reached out for Hubert. Hubert’s cheeks turned a pretty pink as he took Ferdinand’s hand. They stayed there for a moment, enjoying the stillness of the breaking dawn. 

Hubert chuckled and turned Ferdinand’s hand over, palm down, and brought it up to brush a feather-light kiss to his knuckles. Now it was Ferdinand’s turn to pink - he could already feel the tips of his ears grow warm as Hubert pulled away, affection shining bright in his one visible eye.

“Safe travels, Ferdinand,” he murmured, and Ferdinand was off. As he made his way to his destination, the image of Hubert’s flushed, embarrassed face lingered in his thoughts. 

But the Hubert in front of him now was dark and intimidating, a stormy mix of emotions cast across his face. Hubert whirled around, skillfully balancing the steaming hot kettle in his gloved hands. The other man glared at him as he sidled past to place the kettle down on a coaster. “It was hard enough to convince you to take a battalion, if you recall. I didn’t think it would be wise to push my luck and ask you if you were bringing proper armor.”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes, feeling a little petulant, and moved to open the tea cabinet. Byleth had personally stocked this particular cabinet full of her former students’ favorite teas and even handwrote little labels to separate them. “I had everything under control, Hubert,” he said as he pulled one bundle of tea leaves from the packages labeled for Edelgard, Caspar, Linhardt, Hubert, Ferdinand, and the Professor herself. 

A hand gently tugged his chin to the side and there Hubert stood, looking fiercely at Ferdinand. Ferdinand could only stare open-mouthed, gaping like a fish out of water as Hubert’s other hand came up to move Ferdinand’s hair over his shoulder, revealing the puncture marks on his neck. Hubert’s eyes darkened, a scowl curving his thin lips. 

“Do you call this under control, Ferdinand?” Hubert’s voice was little more than a whisper. 

Ferdinand stared back with wide eyes. “How did you…?”

Hubert glowered at him. “You really should learn how to control your emotions and your movements in public. You were constantly touching your neck - even a child could see that you were hiding something there.”

Then Hubert’s eyes softened. His hand dropped from Ferdinand’s hair to his neck, tracing his thumb over the two marks and Ferdinand couldn’t help but shiver under his touch. Hubert’s other hand moved from Ferdinand’s chin to cradle his face. “Who knows what this could do to you…”

The last sentence was quiet; so quiet that Ferdinand wasn’t sure if it was meant for his ears. But Ferdinand leaned into his hand and covered it with his own, giving Hubert a soft smile. “Nothing that can’t be solved by you, I’m sure.”

Hubert blinked at him - ah, so he wasn’t supposed to hear it. But then he chuckled and his hands fell away. Ferdinand missed it already. 

“You give me too much credit, Ferdinand,” Hubert took the tea leaves from Ferdinand’s hands and placed each one into their own cup. Ferdinand followed close behind and began to pour the hot water into the cup after Hubert put a bundle in. “My expertise is in subterfuge - I will leave the research to my spies and Linhardt.”

“Assuming he can stay awake long enough to do it,” Ferdinand joked, a little relieved. Perhaps he had truly worried Hubert - he didn’t scold Ferdinand nearly as much as he had been expecting. So he decided to appeal even more to Hubert’s rare mercy and replaced the bundle of cinnamon blend with a coffee blend from Dagda that he kept especially for Hubert. Ferdinand beamed at Hubert as he poured the water over the coffee grounds. 

Hubert chuckled and picked up the tray after Ferdinand put the kettle back in its place. “Judging by the look in his eyes, he’ll keep himself awake long enough to examine your wound out of sheer will.”

And with that, the two of them walked out of the kitchen side by side, never straying more than a few steps apart, as if they were tethered by an invisible line. No one batted an eye as they made their way to Edelgard’s personal office. The sight of the two men together had become a common sight to see, whether they were bantering, or arguing, or even just enjoying each other’s company. 

There were rumors about their relationship, Ferdinand was well aware of it, but none could deny that Ferdinand and Hubert were a set. Just as Edelgard and Byleth were a pair, so were they. Romantic or not, servants would whisper as they passed, there was no denying that they made each other happy - even though it did terrify the newer additions to the staff to see the fearsome Hubert von Vestra _smile _at the Prime Minister.

The older staff members suspected Hubert smiled just to unnerve them and keep them on their toes. (And perhaps that was true; Hubert was always a bit unpredictable that way.)

But only the oldest, most trusted servants knew that it wasn’t just because of that. Ferdinand and Hubert passed by one such servant - the head maid, Cynthia - and Ferdinand gave her a small wave. Cynthia just smiled knowingly as she curtsied. Cynthia and a few others had watched as their relationship had turned from rivals to tentative allies to friends to… whatever they were now.

It was never said aloud, but Ferdinand didn’t need words to know that he trusted Hubert with his entire being - just as he didn’t need words to know that Hubert felt the same for him. 

And Ferdinand wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh, i'm realizing now that this is way longer than the first chapter. uh, disclaimer now that the lengths will vary, as i'm still a uni student. also! no update until after thursday because i have my last midterm before the final exam and i want to do well on it. (i mean, i have a 97 in the class and i already know a good chunk of the material but i'm also very paranoid)
> 
> fun fact: i was pre med for my freshman year of college and then i realized that i wouldn't be happy if i did that for the rest of my life, so i switched majors over the summer and now i'm so much happier than i was before. 
> 
> good luck on any quizzes or exams you all may have! if you don't, enjoy your life! don't forget to love each other!


	3. Chapter 3

Edelgard sighed and placed her cup of bergamot tea onto its saucer with a quiet _dink. _ “Well, now that we’ve all caught up, Hubert, if you would please…”

Hubert stood and moved to the large oak doors, his hand glowing a deep purple as he traced a sigil into the wood. “It is done, Your Majesty,” he said, and returned to his seat next to Ferdinand. 

Edelgard’s personal office was a great deal homier than her official office. Instead of the slightly uncomfortable chairs that were present in the official office, there were generously cushioned armchairs that Ferdinand could most definitely see himself falling asleep on. There was even a dreadfully comfortable chaise in the corner that was currently occupied by a lounging Linhardt, who was using Caspar’s thighs as a pillow. 

Ferdinand and Hubert were using the armchairs and had dragged them in front of Edelgard’s desk. Edelgard herself was in her custom-made chair - one of the few luxuries she allowed herself - and Byleth was perched on the armrest. Ferdinand had once asked Byleth why she chose that as her place and Byleth had shrugged. “Comfier,” she said plainly. 

As Hubert settled in, Edelgard leaned back in her chair. “Now no one can listen in, but all that is discussed here cannot leave this room, understood?”

“Crystal clear, Edelgard,” Caspar said. Linhardt just grunted, but in a way that Ferdinand recognized as his positive, affirming grunt. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hubert said. 

“Of course,” Ferdinand nodded. 

Edelgard smiled. “I do wish we could have gathered here under more positive circumstances, but these are the cards life has dealt us. Ferdinand-,” Edelgard’s eyes narrowed sharply. “These bandits… were not bandits, yes?”

Ferdinand shook his head and put down his tea as well, his cheer replaced with a sobering seriousness. “Yes, Your Majesty. It was undoubtedly the work of Those Who Slither in the Dark, but it was like nothing I had ever seen during the war.” Ferdinand shuddered, memories of a husk of something that was once human rushing to the forefront of his mind. “She - it - I don’t know if I can even call the thing that attacked me a human.”

“It had half the might of a Demonic Beast, but in the body of a woman. Had it not been for the purpling skin and the fangs, I might not have realized the true extent of peril that I was in,” Ferdinand confessed. 

“If I were to draw a conclusion from what I saw that night, I would say that this was an unfinished experiment,” Linhardt noted, his voice serious despite still lying in Caspar’s lap. “I hypothesize that the Slitherers - the full name is much too long, Hubert, really - are trying to put the full power of Demonic Beasts into hosts and pass them off as humans to infiltrate the population.”

“If they could sneak enough experiments into a city...” Edelgard murmured. 

Byleth scowled. “Then they could easily take it down and we wouldn’t have a clue how to catch them.”

A disturbed hush fell over the room. Ferdinand’s eyes fell on Byleth, who was staring blankly at the wall, her sword hand flexing restlessly at her side as if itching for a weapon. 

Ferdinand cleared his throat, a bit uneasily. “Ah, I should probably mention something…” He pulled back his hair and shifted so that everyone could see his neck. “The Slitherer managed to pin me down and bite me. Caspar killed it. Linhardt healed me almost immediately, but these marks still remain.” 

Edelgard was on her feet and at his neck in a flash, almost frantically, Ferdinand dared to think. Her hands trembled as she reached out to ghost her fingers over the wound. Ferdinand laughed a bit nervously. “That worried for me, dear Emperor?”

“Hush, you - and it’s Edelgard, Ferdinand, we are all equals in this room,” Edelgard scolded. “And of course I’m worried. It is as you said - the body you brought back was the first of its kind. Linhardt, what are your thoughts?”

“Some sort of venom was injected into his neck through the bite; he was convulsing when I got to him. Some sort of Agarthan experimentation, I presume,” Linhardt extracted himself from the comforts of the chaise to stand next to Edelgard. “I’m not sure why the wounds aren’t closing, I would have to take a closer look at him in the lab, if that is alright with you, Hubert. I know you two usually take tea together around this time.”

“Lab first, I would think. It would not do to have Ferdinand keel over in a hallway somewhere,” Hubert sighed and took a sip of coffee. 

Byleth nodded and hopped off the armrest. “Caspar, shall we go and choose your rooms? I have a feeling they’ll be in the lab for a while.”

Caspar got to his feet and walked over to Linhardt. “Hey, window or no window?”

“No window, I have a feeling I’m going to be needing my sleep after all of this,” Linhardt replied, still fixated on Ferdinand’s neck. 

“Got it,” Caspar nonchalantly pressed a kiss to Linhardt’s cheek. “Make sure to eat at some point, ‘kay?”

Linhardt hummed in assent, reaching up to gently pat Caspar’s cheek while he pressed around the wounds. Caspar seemed pleased and bounded to the door with the Professor following closely behind. “Hey, after I pick out the rooms, can we go spar? For old times sake, Professor!”

Caspar’s voice could still be heard long after the pair had left the room - Byleth must’ve agreed to a spar, judging by the way Caspar’s yells increased in volume. Edelgard just shook her head and sighed, a smile on her lips. “Ah, Caspar. Still the same as always.”

Ferdinand watched delightedly as the corner of Linhardt’s mouth turned up. “He is a fool, but an endearing one,” Linhardt agreed. Then he shook his head and focused his eyes on Ferdinand. “Let’s get you to the lab, Ferdinand. We can’t have you dying on us now.”

* * *

Hours later, Ferdinand found himself lying on a cot in the lab under the palace, utterly exhausted. Hubert had pulled up a chair next to him and was rifling through some paperwork. Ferdinand turned his head to look at Hubert. “What time is it?” he asked weakly. 

“Past your bedtime, dear,” Hubert said softly. “You haven’t rested since you left, have you?”

Ferdinand thought back: he left early in the morning and ended up riding through the night after the ambush, and then he had to stay awake for Linhardt’s experiments. “Ah, you’ve caught me,” Ferdinand chuckled and reached out for Hubert, who gently placed his hand in Ferdinand’s. “But strangely, I am not tired.”

Hubert scoffed, squeezing Ferdinand’s hand lightly. “Your boundless energy never ceases to amaze me. A normal man would be passed out if he had drawn half the amount of blood that Lindhardt took from you.”

“Well, I’ve always said that an Aegir must go beyond the expectations of the people,” Ferdinand joked, then huffed. “Do you think Linhardt will let me go soon? We still haven’t had tea.”

“We had tea with the others.”

Ferdinand shook his head and tightened his grip on Hubert’s hand. “Yes, but _ we _have not had the chance to have tea.” 

Hubert’s cheeks flushed red - adorably, Ferdinand thought - and turned away, but not fast enough to hide the smile forming on his lips. Ferdinand decided to up the ante. “Oh, but if you do not wish to have tea or coffee, I would be happy just to make conversation with you.”

The mage scoffed, but turned back to Ferdinand with affectionate eyes. “You really are an impossible man, Ferdinand von Aegir,” he murmured. 

“Hubert, you are twice as impossible as I and we are _still_ friends, you really cannot complain here.”

Friends. That’s all Hubert would ever admit that they were. Ferdinand knew, however, that Hubert’s actions and words masked intentions that were more than platonic. At least, he truly hoped he did. 

Ferdinand knew his exuberance could be a bit… much for some people - it was really a miracle that Hubert hadn’t killed him in their youth. He also knew for a fact that he was much more in tune with his emotions than his partner, which was why Ferdinand would not press the subject of their relationship. 

He would not risk the comfort of having Hubert at his side for the sake of putting a label on what they were - he valued the other man far too much for that. But that didn’t mean Ferdinand would stop rocking the boat. Ferdinand enjoyed teasing Hubert and that oh-so-rare blush of his far too much to give it up. 

So he drew his hand back to rest it on his chest, interlacing his fingers with his other hand, and settled back into the mountain of pillows on the cot. For a laboratory cot, it was surprisingly well furnished. Ferdinand suspected that it was the work of Linhardt and his tendency to wander into random rooms for naps. 

Edelgard had ordered the construction of the lab almost immediately after the war’s end. At first, it was mainly for Hubert and his spies’ use, but Linhardt made his own little corner for Crest research soon enough. Eventually, Linhardt expanded his territory, requiring more and more rooms for his tests. Now, the lab was as much Linhardt’s as it was Hubert’s. 

The more Ferdinand thought about it, the more he realized that Linhardt’s growing ownership explained so many things - the comfier beds, the fluffy pillows - the fact that there were any beds at all, really. 

Linhardt’s work was for sustainability and life, while Hubert’s work… did not call for comfort. 

Yet the hands that carried out such grisly tasks gave Ferdinand much comfort and he adored Hubert despite it all. Ferdinand smiled and shifted onto his side - and if he just so happened to move in such a way that his hair fell away from the smooth expanse of his neck, Ferdinand wasn’t going to admit it.

Hubert’s eyes darkened and Ferdinand inwardly cursed; he had exposed the side of his neck with the bite marks. An amateur mistake. 

“They still haven’t disappeared…” Hubert raised an eyebrow.

Ferdinand shrugged and moved his hair back over his shoulder. “The Slitherers must have improved their technology more than we anticipated,” he said. “And one more scar will not hurt me - the war left me with too many to be self-conscious about them.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “I was a bit more concerned with the possible side effects of the venom than your vanity, von Aegir,” he said flatly. “It’s been just over a day since you were bitten, so it’s either a slow-acting, debilitating poison, or you’re fine.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Hubert.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Ferdinand.”

“It sounds as if you almost _ wish _it was poison so you could research it!”

“Fool of a man, why in hell’s name would I-?”

“As wonderful as listening to your lovers’ quarrel is, I do have the results of your tests back, Ferdinand, if you wish to know,” Linhardt drawled from where he leaned against the doorframe. 

Ferdinand rolled over to face the sage. “Am I dying, dear Linhardt?”

Linhardt rolled his eyes and walked up to his bedside, rifling through his papers. “Unfortunately, it seems that you will live yet another day,” Linhardt handed the papers to Hubert, who began scanning the lines of Linhardt’s loopy scrawl immediately. “No trace of any toxins in your blood and no sign of any Agarthan magic we’re familiar with.”

Ferdinand pushed himself up and swung his legs over to dangle off the bed. He stared Linhardt firmly in the eyes, grinning. “So what you, the most senior medical officer and lead researcher on Agarthan magic effects on the body, are saying is that I, Ferdinand von Aegir, have a clean bill of health?”

“Goddess above, even when you’ve been awake for nearly two days, you never stop talking,” Linhardt groaned. “_ Yes_, you’re free to go.”

Ferdinand triumphantly leaped to his feet and whirled around, beaming expectantly at Hubert, who was still perusing Linhardt’s notes. Hubert glanced up at him over the papers, sighed, and turned his attention to Linhardt. “And what of the marks on his neck? They have not faded.”

Linhardt shrugged, his eyes downcast, yet Ferdinand when chanced a look over his shoulder, he practically saw the cogs of Linhardt’s brain whirring. “Beats me, but so far, it doesn’t appear to have any effect on Ferdinand’s health. We will monitor it, of course.”

Hubert stood from his chair and moved to hand the papers back to Linhardt. He straightened the lapels of his coat and nodded solemnly. “Please alert me to anything you deem… out of the ordinary.”

“Your spies will tell you even if I don’t, Hubert, we all know that.”

A fearsome smirk spread across Hubert’s face and he dipped into a shallow bow. “I am glad we understand each other, Linhardt.”

Linhardt just waved a hand, stifling a yawn with his other. “Yes, yes, go on already. I need to take a _ nap. _” And with that, he collapsed face-first into the cot Ferdinand had just vacated. 

Ferdinand stared for a moment. “Shall I notify Caspar of your whereabouts?” 

Linhardt grunted. 

“I will take that as a yes. Goodnight, Linhardt.” Hubert was already out the door and Ferdinand hurried after him, slowing his pace once he reached the other man to walk side by side. “Your quarters or mine?”

Hubert chuckled lowly, his arms folded over his chest. “Is your need for tea a higher priority than sleep?”

Ferdinand shrugged. “Perhaps it is the adrenaline, but I do not feel tired in the slightest. I am energized, even.” They had reached the long staircase that led back up to the main palace. Even on his best days, Ferdinand found the walk up to be tiresome. He frowned. “Well. Maybe not energized enough for this.”

The mage at his side rolled his eyes - they were going to get stuck up there one day, Ferdinand swore - and reached out to take Ferdinand’s hand. “Hold on,” he said, and Ferdinand felt a pull in his gut and then they were standing in the middle of Hubert’s office. 

“Ah,” Ferdinand blinked. “I see you have chosen your quarters.”

“I keep my coffee in here, as well as a stash of tea,” Hubert left his side in a whirl of black and stooped down to reach into a cabinet and pull out the aforementioned drinks, as well as a set of china. “My office is closer to the kitchens, if you wish to have a different blend.”

Ferdinand could not help but laugh fondly. “Hubert! I did not even have to convince you to have a drink with me! Careful, if people overhear, they might think - Saints forgive - that you have-,” Ferdinand made quite a show of looking around, even poking his head out the door. “-_ feelings! _”

Hubert scowled at him, setting the tea set on his table hardly a sound. “Go and get the kettle, von Aegir.”

“Do not worry, I shall not tell a soul of your secret emotions!” 

“_Ferdinand.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> linhardt is such a mood. all i want to do is sleep - it's not even that i did a lot, i'm just so tired from studying. but i don't have class tomorrow and i'm in the US, so i have a week long break! i am so ready to play three houses again - i left my switch at home so i don't get distracted during school. 
> 
> fun fact: i didn't s-support edelgard during my crimson flower run oops :'D i didn't a-support ferdinand and hubert either :'D but i'm making up for it now with this fic !!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: gore, major character injury, panic attack 
> 
> The gore and injury happen within a nightmare and are not real, but if you want to skip it: it starts from "Really, is that the best you have?" and ends with "and then it swung down-!"
> 
> The panic attack happens right after that: "and then it swung down-!" to "The person in front of him visibly relaxed,"
> 
> Summary of the information included in that section will be in the end notes!

It happened all too quickly, yet too slowly for anyone to truly notice. 

As the days passed by, Ferdinand found himself tiring much faster during the day, often having to lean on the walls of the palace to subtly catch his breath. He was horrified, to be honest, that he had let himself regress that far. To be winded by a mere flight of stairs was unbecoming of an Aegir noble!

He took to avoiding the other inhabitants of the palace, only venturing out of his room at odd hours to sneak off to the training grounds when he wasn’t swamped with paperwork. For hours and hours on end, Ferdinand ran through his training exercises with an enthusiasm that surpassed his teenage self. Yet nothing seemed to change.

Eventually, he went to Byleth for help. 

(In actuality, Byleth found him on his knees in the training ground, his lance halfway across the room, panting and sweating far too heavily for a basic exercise. Her blue eyes pierced deep into his heart and soul, as if with one look she knew his very being. She knelt before him and wiped his brow with the sleeve of her coat. 

Byleth said nothing and just helped him to the infirmary. The next day, she was waiting for him, sword in hand, the faintest shadow of a smile on her lips.)

Evening after evening, they would spar. Byleth would be finishing up her training as Ferdinand started his. Were it any other person, Ferdinand would be ashamed of how frequently he was knocked on his back, but it was the professor and the professor _never _ lost. 

“You have to take better care of yourself, Ferdinand,” the professor had scolded. Ferdinand was lying flat on the dirt, chest heaving with shallow gasps. Byleth looked like she had barely moved, not even a hair out of place. She frowned. “Maybe we should call Linhardt back to look at you again…”

Ferdinand shook his head, shakily pushing himself up into a sitting position. “They have already delayed their travels for far too long. We cannot ask more of them, especially for my lack of stamina."

But it wasn’t his stamina that disappeared. 

Ferdinand von Aegir, a man who had sunshine for hair, who delighted in early morning rides and the warmth of the sun on his freckled cheeks now could not stand the light of day.

Really, that should’ve been the point where Ferdinand realized that something was seriously wrong. But Ferdinand was used to pushing through his own discomfort; he scarcely had enough time to even bathe during the war. A little light sensitivity should be nothing for an Aegir, Ferdinand reasoned. 

So what if his skin burned every time he left the palace? Probably his overly sensitive skin acting up. A bit strange, since Ferdinand rarely got sunburnt. And if his eyes hurt when he was outside in the sun? He probably spent too much time looking at his papers. But it was also strange - during the war, he once went two days straight poring over war maps and his eyes didn’t ache like they did when he was outside his office.

So Ferdinand ignored it and went about his business. And if he spent his days in his office instead of outside, well, that was no one’s business but his. 

Except that it most definitely was the business of his direct superior, Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg. 

She slammed open his office doors late in the evening and walked in as if she owned the place - but she was the Emperor, so she technically did. Ferdinand didn’t even look up from his papers. “Ferdinand,” she ground out, coming to a stop in front of his desk. “What are you doing?”

“Reviewing the plans for the irrigation system in Gloucester territory. Lorenz sent word that the harvest in the middle of the territory this year did not yield as much as the rest of the territory, so we are working on revamping it,” Ferdinand said, sifting through his stack of papers. Ferdinand thanked the Goddess every day that Lorenz had the sense to side with the Empire; he had a hard enough time striking down those he wasn’t as close with. If he had to kill Lorenz…

No, Ferdinand couldn’t think of that. Those days were over, Lorenz was alive, and Ferdinand would never have to lift a hand against his friends ever again. The war had - _ they had _\- ravaged the country and there was nothing that would stop him from fixing it. He lifted his eyes from the papers and met Edelgard’s firm gaze. “Was there something you needed from me, Your Majesty?”

“I need you to get some sunlight, Ferdinand,” Edelgard huffed. “You’re wasting away - you’re almost as pale as Hubert now!”

“Now _that _is a gross exaggeration,” Ferdinand scoffed. 

Edelgard pulled a mirror from her coat and practically shoved it into his face. Ferdinand caught a glimpse of paper white skin and deep, dark bags under his eyes and groaned. “Gods, okay, you have made your point! Please, turn that away! I do not wish to be reminded of how awful I have been looking recently.”

The emperor sighed and set the mirror down on the desk. “Either spend an afternoon outside or go to your quarters and sleep. And no, that is not a suggestion, it is an _ order._” 

Ferdinand pouted and slumped back into his chair, dragging a hand down his face. “At least let me get this done-,”

“_Ferdinand von Aegir.” _

“Oh, all right, all right. Really, there is no need to make such a fuss about this,” Ferdinand braced his hands on his desk and pushed himself up, valiantly hiding a grimace as he swayed slightly. 

Edelgard just looked at him with her piercing lavender eyes and placed her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at him. Sighing, Ferdinand bowed. “By your leave, Majesty.”

The emperor’s eyes softened and she moved to gently pat his shoulder as he straightened up. “I only do this out of concern as your friend, Ferdinand, I hope you know that.” Ferdinand nodded, unable to meet her gaze. Her grip on his shoulder tightened imperceptibly. “But if I see no improvement within the next few days, I will have no choice except to confine you to bedrest.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

“Edelgard, Ferdinand. We’ve been over this.” Edelgard paused, then moved until they were face to face and Ferdinand was forced to look her in the eye. She sighed and dropped her hand to her side. “I know that you feel a little... guilt over what happened during the war.”

Ferdinand huffed and brushed a lock of hair over his shoulder. “To say I feel a little guilt is a terrible, inhuman understatement, _ Majesty_,” he snarled as the hand that was bracing him against his desk curled into a tight fist. “ _ We _ started the war, _ we _ killed hundreds and thousands of people, and _ we _ decimated the land beyond repair-!”

He slammed his fist down and snarled, “If I do not fix this gods damned irrigation system, then I have killed the Gloucester people as well! I cannot - will not - allow any more to perish while I am able to help them.”

Edelgard blinked, then sighed. “You have always had a bleeding heart, Ferdinand.”

She seemed to stand taller, her shoulders squared and her jaw set as she stared him in the eyes. “And that is why I would have no other as my Prime Minister - no, let me finish-,” Ferdinand closed his mouth, a little petulantly. “Hubert and I are admittedly lacking in terms of empathy, which is why you are essential to the success of the country. You are the light to our work in the shadows, the one who looks at the bigger picture - the effects on our humanity and the wellbeing of our people.”

Her eyes darkened and her gaze became cold as ice. “But you are of no use to Adrestia or Fódlan if you are exhausted. Get some rest, Ferdinand, and that is an order from your Emperor.” With a final pat on the shoulder, she was gone in a whirl of crimson, the doors to his office closing with a heavy thud. 

Goddess, how Ferdinand wished that was the end of it. 

How he wished that one night’s rest fixed all of his problems! No, Ferdinand went straight to his room, shed his clothes, sluggishly pulled on his nightwear, and dove into bed, burrowing deep under the covers. Yet sleep eluded him and he stared blearily at the ceiling for hours and hours, watching the moonlight move above him and the early light of dawn appear over the horizon. 

Then finally - _ finally _\- the unseen force tethering him to consciousness faded away and Ferdinand drifted to sleep, a small smile of relief painting his lips. 

Ferdinand found himself floating in an abyss dressed in a flowing white shirt tucked into waist-high black pants. “Ah, a dream then,” he said. And of course it was - Ferdinand wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such a low-cut shirt paired with pants as tight as the ones he donned in this dream world. At least not together. 

He willed himself to move, swinging his legs downwards until the tips of his toes - he was barefoot, apparently - dipped into what felt like water. Yet it was black as night and Ferdinand could not see anything before him except for himself. The white fabric of his shirt (if he could even call it that. The fabric was so flimsy!) seemed to glow with an unnatural light. 

Well, faint light, even if it was abnormal, was better than no light. Ferdinand shrugged to himself and forced his dream self to walk, arms stretched out before him. He walked and walked for what seemed like hours, yet there were no walls or barriers that he encountered with his outstretched fingers. 

Ferdinand supposed he should be thankful. Usually, after staying awake for so long, he would suffer terrible nightmares or twisted fever dreams. Walking in an endless abyss was one of his tamer exhausted dreams. He chuckled to himself and stopped walking, his hands dropping to his sides. “Really, is that the best you have?” 

A ragged scream pierced through the darkness and Ferdinand paled. He would recognize that terrible sound anywhere. He just _had _to ask the dream world, didn’t he?! 

The Slitherer demon shot out of the darkness like an arrow, its face illuminated by the white glow of his shirt - Ferdinand didn’t even have time to yell before it was upon him. Knife-like talons pierced his chest and the monster that attacked him screamed again, flecks of saliva spattering across Ferdinand’s face. It howled and then Ferdinand was flat on his back, the monstrously distorted face of the Slitherer not two inches from his nose, snarling incomprehensibly. 

All air was knocked from his lungs as his back hit the ground, the liquid now seeping into the thin fabric of his shirt. The thing pressed its claws deeper, deeper, _ deeper _still until the all too familiar feeling of ribs cracking forced a strangled howl from Ferdinand’s throat. 

_ “You should have killed me!” _ it shrieked, fangs shining with drool. Its eyes were wide and watery, but black as night with no white sclera to be seen. Jet black tears rolled down its face as it sobbed, “ _ You should have killed me! Kill me, kill me! _”

Its claws tore out of his chest and thrust into his stomach, screeching. Blood spattered across its face, shining in the dimming light of Ferdinand’s shirt that was slowly becoming drenched in his own blood. Ferdinand choked on the blood bubbling in his throat, his scream turning into a weak gurgle. 

The creature plunged its talons deeper into his stomach until Ferdinand felt them pierce through to his back. It was like getting stabbed at Ailell all over again, except ten times worse, Ferdinand managed to think through the haze of excruciating pain. 

And then the claws were gone and Ferdinand was acutely aware of the empty holes in his torso. The creature hovered over him, its hands placed on either side of his head. A terrible, croaking wail rattled in its throat as it leaned over Ferdinand’s face. “_ You should have killed me, von Aegir!” _ Its jaws unhinged, revealing its many rows of horrid fangs threaded with strings of saliva. “ _ Now you will die with me!” _

It reared back, its claws outstretched, and Ferdinand watched in horror as its stringy, cropped black hair lengthened and turned into an orange hue identical to Ferdinand’s hair. Its face twisted and shifted and it _screamed _ \- and Ferdinand was staring into the eyes of himself. 

The Slitherer wearing his face let out a shrieking laugh and then it swung down-!

-dark, _ dark_, it was too dark, too tight, he was being strangled! Ferdinand thrashed wildly, kicking his legs out, trying desperately to loosen his bonds around his torso. It was too dark and all of a sudden, he was back in the war, back in Arianrhod, Cornelia had hit him point-blank with a Death spell, his chest was collapsing, his throat was destroyed, his ears were ringing, he was going to _die _-! 

With a choked cry, Ferdinand threw himself to the side and he was falling, slamming against the ground face-first - goddess, that was a broken nose - Ferdinand had to get away, he had to run, he had to _get out! _ He rolled again and thank goddess, the ties around him loosened! He scrambled to his feet as the cloth bindings slipped from his body, falling once and crashing to the floor with a nasty thud, only to run into a solid chest. 

Hands came to grasp at his shoulders and Ferdinand let out an earsplitting scream, frantically pulling back and shoving at his captor’s arms. “No, no, no, let me go, _ let me go!” _

The hands were gone and Ferdinand stumbled backward, crashing to the floor again. He wrenched his eyes open and focused on the person in front of him. It was a different person than the one Ferdinand had run into - they were too short. They had dropped to their knees, hands outstretched hesitantly. Ferdinand’s heart was thrumming in his chest so hard, so fast that he could practically feel it in his throat as they slowly approached.

Ferdinand’s gaze moved to the person’s face - they were speaking. The ringing in his ears faded away and the other’s voice filled his head. “-safe, Ferdinand, you are safe here. Breathe, friend, I’m right here, I will not leave you. We are in Enbarr, in your quarters. Not on the battlefield, not in the war, we are home.”

And Ferdinand’s head began to clear, his heart began to calm a bit, his breathing evening out. “W-what… who?”

The person in front of him visibly relaxed, their shoulders dropping as they let out a sigh of relief. “I’m Edelgard, Ferdinand,” she said, and it was so. Ferdinand sobbed as her white hair came into focus, her normally cold eyes were round with concern. She reached forward, stopping right before his hands. Edelgard carefully met his eyes, asking permission silently. Ferdinand answered her by taking her hand in his. Immediately, she clasped both of his between her own, gently caressing the top of his hands. 

In his head, Ferdinand felt a burning shame rise to the forefront of his thoughts. What a state for Edelgard to find him in. Though he had long ago thrown away his misguided rivalry, for the monarch of the country to witness him after a nightmare was mortifying. He sucked in a shuddering breath and dropped his chin to his chest, willing the tears gathering in his eyes to dry. 

Edelgard inched closer, squeezing his hands again. “Ferdinand, do you wish for us to stay?”

Ferdinand blinked slowly at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. As if in response, a head appeared next to Edelgard and there was the professor, watching him with soft eyes. Ferdinand looked behind her to meet pale green eyes set above an achingly familiar angular nose - Hubert. It must’ve been a scene to the servants, seeing the prime minister on the floor, crying like a babe, comforted by the emperor, the general commander, and the Minister of the Imperial Household. 

But as Ferdinand’s pulse slowed and he surveyed his room, he realized they were alone. It was just the four of them, not a servant in sight. Oh, even worse! Ferdinand wilted and slumped back against his bed; one of them must have sent them away and he did not even notice!

Hubert came forward and settled on his knees next to him. He lifted a careful hand and slowly placed it on Ferdinand’s shoulder. A warmth flared in Ferdinand’s heart; Hubert deliberately moved his hand in such a way that Ferdinand could watch its path to his body. Ferdinand leaned into the touch and pulled one of his hands from within Edelgard’s grasp to cover Hubert’s. To think that such comfort could come from such a wretched man!

Byleth shuffled forward on her knees and pulled out a heavy blanket seemingly out of nowhere. Ferdinand eyed it suspiciously and his jaw dropped when his eyes fell on the delicately stitched signature of Lady Bernadetta von Varley on the edging - this was Byleth’s personal blanket. He stared with wide eyes as Byleth carefully draped the blanket over his lap, tucking in the edges as a mother would with her child, settling back next to Edelgard with a satisfied smile.

The professor’s smile dropped and she suddenly looked as if she had aged years in the seconds that had just passed. “There is no shame in nightmares, Ferdinand,” she murmured. 

Ferdinand’s blood turned cold and his heart seized in his chest once again.

Something squeezed his hand lightly and Ferdinand managed to pick up his head to meet Edelgard’s lavender gaze. She smiled reassuringly, confidently, which actually seemed to lessen the pain in his chest. Byleth took it as a sign to continue and she shifted so that she was no longer kneeling, but sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. “War is… a terrible thing. But it is over now, and we will stay with you until you remember that tonight,” Byleth’s eyes were hard to read even on the best of days, but now, as Ferdinand saw her, he could read her sincerity as clear as crystal. 

“Only if you allow us to, Ferdinand,” Edelgard added, running her thumb over the hand she still held between her own. 

Ferdinand surveyed the little group in front of him. Edelgard, his rival-turned-companion-turned-friend, his emperor, dressed in her nightclothes and a robe, her hair falling in loose ringlets down her back and holding his hand, grounding him and reminding him that he was safe. Byleth, his teacher and commander, the person he trusted most to keep the troops alive during the war, ever watching, tucking him in like a child, protecting him even off the battlefield. 

And Hubert. Ever-present Hubert. He had not spoken during this embarrassing ordeal, yet Ferdinand could not detect any disgust or disdain from the other man. But Ferdinand knew that Hubert cared - Ferdinand had run into Hubert’s chest many a time when he was engrossed in work or some other trifling thing and was a little ashamed that he was able to recognize that Hubert had been the one he had run into in his panic. It was Hubert’s hands that steadied him, Hubert’s hands that retreated as soon as Ferdinand had screamed, still trapped in the throes of his nightmare. 

It was Hubert who had silently moved behind Ferdinand and discreetly gathered him into the curve of his body, wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling Ferdinand snug against Hubert’s chest. Ferdinand jolted a bit and Hubert froze. Then with a sigh, Ferdinand relaxed against him, managing to put a weak smile on his face. The most important people to him were right beside him and always would be. They were only a small fragment of the family they had made during the war, but they were here and they were safe and alive and _home_. 

“An opportunity to have a slumber party with the most powerful individuals in all of Fódlan? It would be my honor.”

Later, after they had gathered pillows and blankets from all of their quarters, made a crude pillow fort, and carved out sleeping areas, Edelgard turned to Ferdinand. “Rest now, Ferdinand,” she whispered. “Sleep, and we will talk in the morning.”

Ferdinand nodded groggily and curled up under the covers, a small, pleased smile on his lips. And as the sun rose and his companions emerged with slightly aching backs and sore shoulders, Ferdinand continued to slumber...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW summary: As a result of the stress and exhaustion, Ferdinand suffers from a terrible nightmare in which the Slitherer beast that attacked him shifts into Ferdinand himself and violently murders him. Ferdinand wakes up tangled in his blankets, thinks he's still dreaming, and experiences a PTSD panic attack. 
> 
> Hello! It's been nearly a month! I had really bad writer's block during Thanksgiving break and then I had finals right after that! I just started my winter break this weekend and cranked this out over the course of a few days. Hopefully I can get another chapter out before January, but as always, my main focus is on getting an education, so this will (unfortunately) come second to my degree. 
> 
> Fun fact: My professor put in my final exam grade as a 2/100! If I hadn't gone into his office to ask about it, I'm fairly certain he would've not seen it and submitted it to the records office as it was! (It was a 92/100, so that would've dropped me a whole letter grade and a half!)
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! I hope everyone is living life to the fullest!


	5. Chapter 5

The sun had already risen, stayed high in the sky, and just dipped below the mountains by the time Ferdinand pulled himself out of the pillow fort. He stifled a yawn behind his hand and slipped on a dressing robe. A tray of now-cold lunch was on his bedside table next to a small note with Hubert’s familiar scrawl. 

_ Ferdinand, _

_ We felt it was best to let you rest a while longer. You have not seemed like yourself as of late, we were worried. _

Ferdinand snorted. Hubert would rather die than outwardly admit his concern; Edelgard must dictated the letter. 

_ The cooks have set aside a meal for you, should you wake after lunch. Rest, and at your convenience, please meet with either myself or Hubert about the matters of your duties as prime minister. _

_ -Edelgard _

Ferdinand had to laugh. Short and to the point. Just like Edelgard. 

The sun moved behind the mountain range and the light from the setting sun slowly faded away. Ferdinand rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. He had better meet with them before the day was over. 

He ambled towards his wardrobe, humming softly as he ran his hands over the elegant fabrics of his shirts. Ferdinand wouldn’t dare call himself a fashion connoisseur, but the Duke of Aegir had to have at least some pride in his appearance. His fingers danced over the expensive silk shirts, the skillfully pressed pants, the elegant brocade of his capes - Ferdinand was not a fuddy-duddy (like Lorenz), but he allowed himself to indulge in the finer things in life; in moderation, of course. He had survived a horrible war, after all. 

With a smile and what felt like a renewed energy, he carefully took a crisp, dark-colored shirt and slacks that looked good, but allowed for comfort. He paired it with a deep crimson overcoat. Ferdinand glanced at the position of the sun and inwardly cheered. It was late enough that he could get away with foregoing a vest and cravat. 

He closed the wardrobe doors, a pleased smile on his lips. As much as he truly loved and enjoyed his job, a late start and a reason for a comfortable outfit were always preferable. He ran his fingers through his tangled mess of hair and immediately froze. But first: a bath. Scowling, Ferdinand rubbed the tips of his fingers together - the amount of oil on his scalp was absolutely _disgusting. _ It would not be right for the prime minister to appear before the emperor and the Minister of the Imperial Household with _oily hair. _

Ferdinand laid his chosen outfit on a chair and rushed to draw a bath - no time to call a servant. In reality, Ferdinand wanted to take advantage of the sudden rush of energy he felt. Who knew how long it would last? And who knew how long it would be until it left him bedridden and weak once more? Ferdinand did not know, and if he was being honest with himself, he did not want to find out. 

Ferdinand considered himself an optimist, but after years of battle, Ferdinand was forced to learn the benefits of cold, hard facts and rational thinking. And so, as he drew his bath, Ferdinand thought about his future. 

During the war, Ferdinand painstakingly wrote out a lengthy will in the event that he would fall in battle. It detailed what he wished would happen to every single one of his belongings - from his prized horses to even his small hairpins that he used during special occasions. He hadn’t had the time to update his will after the war... In truth, he had been putting it off; in part because of the sheer number of valuables he had inherited the Aegir Dukedom, but also because he wanted to believe that he had years and years ahead of him to do it. 

As he lowered himself into the tub and began to lather sweet-smelling soap into his hair, he wondered if it was finally time to rewrite his will. 

Ferdinand was no fool, after all. His sudden lack of energy, the burning of his skin in the sun, the unusually frequent nightmares, and insomnia could only spell trouble for him. Ferdinand could potentially pass it off as a terrible bout of sickness, but the most obvious answer was that the Slitherer that attacked him had poisoned him when it savaged his throat. But Linhardt had said that he could sense nothing amiss! Of course, there was the chance that Linhardt was wrong, but Linhardt had almost single-handedly kept everyone in the Black Eagles Strike Force alive - including their battalions! There was no one more qualified on healing Slitherer magic and poisons than Linhardt von Hevring. 

Still, doubt curled around his heart in a vice-like grip and would not let go. 

The war had taken much of his optimism. The burst of energy he was experiencing was not permanent, Ferdinand thought sullenly. It would soon fade and Ferdinand would once again be as weak, if not weaker than before. What then? What would become of him then?

Would sleep elude him for the rest of his days, only allowing itself to be caught as the first light of dawn broke through the clouds? Would he be forced to wander the halls at night like a ghost? 

Or would he eventually fall into bed and never find the energy to rise? Would he slowly waste away and succumb to whatever magic had stricken him?

As much as he wanted to deny it, Ferdinand’s heart was telling him it was the latter. 

But things were not set in stone! Ferdinand heaved himself out of the bath, which took him a bit more energy than he would have liked, and quickly dried himself off and dressed in his clothes. He snatched a plain black ribbon and tied his hair into a braid over his shoulder as he hurried out of his quarters. 

“Duke Aegir! Shall I inform Emperor Hresvelg that you are awake?” A servant called. 

Ferdinand waved them off. “No need, I am on the way to her office now.”

The servant was not able to get in another word before Ferdinand was out of sight, making his way through the halls almost completely on autopilot. Ferdinand sighed and fiddled with his hair ribbon. What on earth could Edelgard want to discuss? 

He had an inkling of a thought and it definitely was not one that he wanted to be real. Ferdinand knew for a fact that his position called for the best of the best and he also knew that he was not at his prime at the moment. 

It was as if heavy stones lay in the pit of his stomach, causing his gut to churn uncomfortably. Surely Edelgard was not calling him to revoke his position? Saints above, it was bad enough that his health was deteriorating, but would she really take away his job? The thought was enough to have Ferdinand pick up his pace, turning his brisk walk to a hurried half-jog through the corridors. 

Looking back on it, Ferdinand probably should have realized that considering his condition, speeding up was a bad idea. Ferdinand thanked the heavens that the path to Edelgard’s office was fairly quiet during the evenings because he was embarrassingly out of breath. Eventually, much to his horror, Ferdinand had to take a break and brace himself against a wall, pressing two fingers under his jaw and against his fluttering pulse. 

He gasped. “Perhaps I should begin training again. I am very out of shape.”

“Oh? Is that why you are running through the palace panting like a wyvern in heat?”

Ferdinand froze. Oh, of all the people to find him, why did it have to be _him?! _

Ferdinand pulled himself up and turned around. He forced himself to smile and dipped into a shallow bow, discreetly smoothing out the wrinkles in his coat. “Hubert! What a pleasant surprise!”

It was not pleasant for Ferdinand, that was for sure. And as Ferdinand’s eyes roved over Hubert’s face, it was not pleasant for Hubert either. Draped in midnight black and covered in heavy shadow, Hubert looked every bit the demon their enemies thought him to be. A fire seemed to blaze in his green eyes and his usually sour expression was even sourer. 

Did something happen while he was asleep?

When he asked as much, Hubert plastered a poor imitation of his version of a smile onto his thin lips and shook his head. It was obviously fake, yet Hubert merely replied, “It is nothing that requires the attention of both hands of the Emperor.”

“But would it not be more efficient if we both knew what was going on?” Ferdinand asked. “I am not some wilting flower, Hubert. I am already feeling much better!” As if to prove himself, Ferdinand beamed brightly at the other man, placing both hands on his hips and puffing out his chest proudly. 

Hubert just gave him a withering look. “Your shirt is half-tucked, your coat is inside out, and your hair is sopping wet.”

“What does that have to do with my capacity to assist you with your work?”

A sigh. Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply. “Let us have tea, Ferdinand.”

Well, that was sudden. Ferdinand frowned. “I beg pardon?”

“_Tea_**_. _ **Surely you are not ill enough that you have forgotten what that is.”

“Of course not, but-!”

Hubert was already walking away, his hands clasped behind his back. Ferdinand hurriedly followed behind. “But the note…” he protested weakly. 

“It is late, her Majesty has already taken her leave,” Hubert said plainly, adjusting his gait so that Ferdinand could comfortably walk beside him. “And if I recall, the note said to see either her Majesty or myself.”

“But the night is when you do most of your work - do not look at me with such disdain, Hubert, your nighttime activities are common knowledge - I would not want to take you away from that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hubert gave him an unreadable look, which honestly surprised Ferdinand, who had begun to take pride in his own ability to discern what his partner was feeling. Hubert blinked once and the look was gone, replaced by an impassive mask. It was an expression Ferdinand had not seen directed toward him in years, not since their days as students. 

Dread began to seize his heart and Ferdinand had to force himself to stay calm. His thoughts ran circles in his mind: whatever Hubert had to tell him, it was not good. It was either that or Hubert was mad at him - oh, Saints, _ what had he done to make Hubert mad? _

Utterly consumed by tortuous scenarios running through his head, Ferdinand didn’t even notice he was seated in his normal chair in the gazebo until Hubert set a cup down in the saucer before him. Ferdinand had followed Hubert completely unconsciously, blindly trusting that he would lead him wherever they were going.

Hubert sat before him, his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his folded hands as he peered intently at Ferdinand. “Ferdinand…” he began. 

Ferdinand just sighed and took his cup into his hands. “I assure you, I am feeling perfectly fine.”

“I had to physically maneuver you into a sitting position and you did not even blink.”

Ferdinand said nothing and sipped his tea as nonchalantly as he could manage. Now Hubert was the one to sigh. “Fine, I will take your word for it. Do you remember what we did during the Blue Sea Moon the year the professor taught us?”

“...Hubert, I cannot help but feel as if you are trying to change the subject,” Ferdinand snorted. There was an inkling in the back of his head that told him that something was off, yet Ferdinand was admittedly too tired to pay it any attention - though he would never admit it to Hubert. But he shrugged. “That was the month the professor found the Sword of the Creator, was it not?” 

“Mmn, it was,” Hubert looked at him with a strange gleam in his eyes. “How old were we back then? It feels like ages ago to me.”

Ferdinand almost laughed, falling easily into old memories. “Ah, I had just turned eighteen not three months before that - and you had turned twenty that same month.”

Oh, perhaps that was why Hubert was looking at him so strangely… Ferdinand reached over and carefully patted Hubert’s hands. “Twenty-seven is still young, Hubert. War aged us all, but you have the same unique beauty you have always possessed.”

The apples of Hubert’s cheeks flushed red and he coughed once, twice. Yet the unusual look did not fade and instead seemed to intensify. Was that not it? Hubert cleared his throat and locked eyes with Ferdinand, who wilted under his burning gaze. He hadn’t done that since the war!

“Do you remember what we did on the thirty-first of the Garland Moon?”

Ferdinand’s eyes narrowed. “Am I being interrogated?”

Hubert said nothing. 

Ferdinand’s jaw dropped open, completely caught off guard. “_Hubert! _”

Hubert stayed silent. Ferdinand collapsed back into his chair and draped his arm over his eyes, groaning loudly. He really must be out of it if he did not realize that he was being _interrogated by Hubert von Vestra. _

Actually, it was not so much an interrogation as it was an identity confirmation, Ferdinand realized. The aura Hubert gave off was not dangerous or threatening, but rather one of concern. Hubert had not taken him to some dark dungeon to torture information out of him, but had taken him to their regular garden table. The questions Hubert asked were things only Ferdinand would remember with his tendency to remember the most superfluous of details. 

On top of that, Hubert asked what they did on the thirty-first of the Garland Moon. 

When Edelgard and Hubert revealed the truth behind the war, they explained that they had used certain trigger phrases to ensure that the other’s identity had not been stolen by a Slitherer. After that, they all chose phrases that would prove their identity.

Hubert had just used Ferdinand’s. 

Ferdinand let out a frustrated huff and pulled himself up, fixing his cup of tea with a glare. “Was I really acting so out of character that you suspected me, Hubert?”

When Hubert did not speak, Ferdinand had to physically bite back a scream. “Fine! You incorrigible man, you know perfectly well that we went on a short pegasus ride to the lake.”

Hubert’s shoulders relaxed and the normally prim and proper man sagged in his chair. He ran a gloved hand through his perfectly coiffed hair and exhaled deeply. “Apologies, Ferdinand, but I could take no chances. I suspected that perhaps the poison was a curse that was altering your soul, which would have explained your unusual behaviors,” Hubert dragged his hand from his hair down his face, stopping to rest on his chin. “But now that that hypothesis has been proven false, we are back to the drawing board.”

The tightness in his chest disappeared and Ferdinand grabbed his teacup and downed the rest of his tea in one go, putting the cup back in its saucer with more force than required. “I cannot _ believe _that I have allowed myself to worry you so much that you would have to use our phrase.”

“I am surprised that you did not realize it sooner. My transition into the phrase was sloppy at best.”

Ferdinand groaned. Hubert filled his cup again and Ferdinand took another swig. “You and Edelgard have such subtle phrases, and so many! Yet because of my reputation for losing myself in nostalgia, I get the ‘what did we do on this day’ question!”

Hubert just raised an eyebrow. “As long as you are self-aware.”

“Yes, yes, it does work with my personality. Clever, asking for a day that does not exist.”

“I do wish that your answer did not involve my… dislike of heights.”

“Well, that is the point of the answer, is it not? The imposter would either point out that there is no such thing as the thirty-first of the Garland Moon, or they would get caught in a lie. If they did their homework, they would never respond with a pegasus flight as our activity!”

Hubert rolled his eyes and began to clean the table. “Well, now that I have verified that you truly are Ferdinand von Aegir, her Majesty is waiting for us in her office.”

Ferdinand placed his cup and saucer on the tray, got to his feet, and _oh dear, the world was swaying- _

“Ferdinand!” 

Deceptively strong arms pulled him against a broad chest, letting his head rest against the slender curve of Hubert’s throat. But Ferdinand could not focus on the strength of his partner’s grip, no matter how much he would like to. How could he focus when the ground shifted under his feet, when the corners of his vision went dark and blurry, and Hubert’s voice was fading away…?

“...-nand! Hold… coming…!”

What is coming, Ferdinand thought with the last dregs of awareness he had. He still had strength, he could help!

The last thing Ferdinand saw before he drifted into unconsciousness was a single green eye, wide with barely concealed panic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !!! i am the worst at updating! i really thought that i would have time to write during the break, but my family really took up all of my free time - not that i'm complaining! i really did miss them. but then the new quarter started and it took me two weeks to adjust my study habits to fit the needs of my new classes and this is all sounding like excuses, but hopefully i can write on the weekends!
> 
> really, i'm truly sorry that it's taken over a month for this update, but university is a bitch. hopefully, i can do my assignments and study enough to feel comfortable with monthly updates. thank you for your support!
> 
> fun fact: i am 100% korean, but i'm a very whitewashed korean - born and raised in the states. i have a basic understanding of korean and i can read and write, but i have no idea what i'm reading or writing!
> 
> song rec: the real reason we broke up (우리가 잔짜 헤어진 이유) - younha  
younha has been one of my favorite korean singers for YEARS and this is one of my favorite songs of hers. it's a little old (released in 2013), but it's still a great ballad.


	6. Chapter 6

Ferdinand opened his eyes and immediately wished he was asleep again. Dressed in healer’s robes with a burning rage in his eyes was Linhardt von Hevring and he looked very cross. As soon as his eyes opened, Linhardt’s hand shot out and with the fingers that had sewed him back up many a time before, flicked him hard on the forehead. 

“I’ve been gone for a month! How many times am I going to have to see you in an infirmary cot?!” Linhardt gave his forehead another painful flick and then he whirled around to his tray of medical tools. Grumbling, he picked up a pen and turned back around to forcefully tug down the infirmary gown that Ferdinand now realized he was wearing to reveal the bite mark on his throat. Linhardt flashed a fierce scowl and glared at Ferdinand. “I swear to the Saints, you’re more trouble than my husband.”

“I have never landed myself in here because I was trying to jump off a galloping horse in the ravine and broke my leg. I hope that makes me less trouble than Caspar.”

Ferdinand shivered as Linhardt pressed the pen to the skin of his neck, carefully marking the outline of the purpling skin around the bite mark. “ _ Thank you _ for reminding me of that, I had almost managed to forget how foolish Caspar was in his youth.” Linhardt reached back and shuffled through his papers, a frown curving the ends of his lips. “...hasn’t cleansed itself of the poison. Have you been feeling any better at all?”

Ferdinand opened his mouth to reply and Linhardt shot a cold glare at him. “The truth, Ferdinand. Pride has no place here.”

He swallowed - the perpetually sleepy Linhardt was gone, replaced by the no-nonsense, shut-up-I’m-saving-your-life Linhardt. Ferdinand forced a weak laugh from his throat. “Ah, well. I have had trouble sleeping for the past couple days. And when I do manage to fall asleep, I will fall asleep in the early morning and not wake up until the evening.”

Linhardt nodded, but kept his eyes trained on Ferdinand. “That makes sense. The sun had just set when you started showing signs of waking up.”

“Oh, yes, that reminds me. When did you arrive? It is quite fortunate that you arrived just in time.”

A strange expression cast across Linhardt’s face and he turned back to his papers. “Ferdinand…” Linhardt finally said, voice soft. “I have been here nearly a fortnight.”

The world seemed to freeze. 

Ferdinand felt his heart drop to his stomach, felt his blood turn to ice. “That… that cannot be…” And then a thought came to mind and he lurched forward to scramble out of bed. “Oh, gods, I have so much work to do! The irrigation plans, the trade routes-!”

“Oh, for the love of - you’ve been asleep! For a  _ fortnight! _ ” Linhardt pushed Ferdinand back into his pillows none too gently, holding him firmly down by his shoulders. “You nearly died, Ferdinand von Aegir; I had to devise a whole new system to make sure you got your nutrients - do you have no spatial awareness, you fool, you have tubes coming out of your skin!”

“-who has been taking care of my work? The trade routes should have been finalized a week ago! And my horses! I care for them personally, have they been cared for? And-!”

“ _ Ferdinand von Aegir, have you been listening to me at all?! _ ”

“My work is important, Linhardt!”

“And so is your life!” Linhardt finally shouted, shocking Ferdinand into silence. Linhardt was breathing heavily, his pale cheeks red with effort. “I know we will never see eye to eye on what we believe to be the ideal energy expenditure, but this is too much, even for you.”

Ferdinand kept his mouth shut - how could he say anything when he could feel Linhardt’s hands trembling where they pinned him down? Linhardt’s eyes were wide with anger and to Ferdinand’s horror,  _ fear _ . 

“All of the Black Eagles survived the war against the strongest of the Slitherers and then you got yourself poisoned by an  _ experiment  _ and we nearly lost you to it! Do you realize just how much of a panic you caused when you fainted? They sent out the professor to find Caspar and me.  _ The professor _ , Ferdinand! The Emperor sent her closest confidant to find me because she was so frightened, though she would not wish to be seen as such!”

“You had the palace in a state when we arrived - Her Majesty had to actually order Hubert away so that I could treat you properly. And by treat you properly, I mean I had to invent a new system of supplying you with nutrients!” Ferdinand’s confusion must have shown on his face because Linhardt released him, only to reach down and yank Ferdinand’s arm up in front of his face, gesturing wildly at it. “Did you not understand me earlier? Did you not even notice the tubing and the needle I had to insert into you?! How did you not notice the medicine bag hanging  _ right next to your head?! _ ”

Ferdinand turned his head ever so slightly and oh, yes, he saw the bag now. 

“Ah,” he said. 

Linhardt looked like he wanted to strangle him. Instead, the healer screwed his eyes shut and exhaled deeply, dropping Ferdinand’s hand so that he could massage his temples. “And do not get me started on the amount of research I need to do now that you are conscious.”

Guilt welled up in Ferdinand’s chest. “I am sure I will be fine, please, do not worry about me and enjoy your trip.”

The look Linhardt gave him promised imminent danger if he said one more word, so Ferdinand shut his mouth and stared at his blankets, his hands placed meekly on his lap. 

Linhardt huffed and stormed out the door, not even bothering to glance back as he called, “I am going to call Her Majesty; if I catch you moving out of that bed, I swear I will tie you down myself!” And in a flurry of white robes, he was gone. Ferdinand bit back a smile as he wondered when the last time he had seen Linhardt move that fast outside of wartime.

* * *

Ferdinand did not have to wait terribly long for Linhardt to return with Her Majesty, but it was long enough that he managed to wheedle one of the servants into bringing down the paperwork in his office for him to work on. When they returned, Ferdinand realized that he had never seen so many different degrees of anger on Linhardt’s usually passive face before. Linhardt barely restrained himself as he stalked to Ferdinand’s bedside and snatched the quill right out of his hands and gave him another hard flick to the forehead. 

He let out a tiny, embarrassing squeak and Linhardt scowled fiercely at him, gathering up the papers on Ferdinand’s lap and dumping them on a chair with a huff. “Someone else had better have gotten that for you, or I will-!”

“Now, Linhardt, go easy on him,” Edelgard chuckled. Ferdinand took in the sight of his monarch standing proudly before him, but her regal demeanor could not hide the exhaustion he saw in the lines of her body. To him, it had been not two days since he had seen her last, but it had been two weeks in reality. 

Shame washed over him in waves when he saw the dark bags under her eyes and the slight tremble to her thin hands. Oh, why could he never do things right?

He dipped his head to her, placing one hand over his heart. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I asked one of the servants to bring me my work so that I could continue to be of service to you.”

Linhardt tipped his head back, muttering, “Petra would never treat me like this. Petra understood the meaning of recovery time.”

Edelgard smiled softly. “Petra was always the best of us.” Her smile dropped as she turned to Linhardt, ever the picture of grace and power. “How does he fare, Linhardt?”

Linhardt sighed and picked up a file from one of the tables near Ferdinand’s bedside. “Will you not call Hubert here to hear this? I would think that would be his right as Ferdinand’s partner.”

Ferdinand, who had just taken a sip of the tea another servant had so kindly left him, promptly choked on it, sputtering wildly as his whole face burned and flushed red. “ _ Partner _ ? I-! W-we-!”

It was Edelgard’s turn to sigh, her mask of solemnity cracking in favor of the exasperation that now darkened her gaze. “Yes, Ferdinand, we know. Partners in all but name and ceremony - really, you both go on as if you plan to spend the rest of your days together, what is stopping you from putting a name to what you have?” Edelgard rolled her eyes and turned to fully face Linhardt. “But no, I will not be calling Count Vestra now.”

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“Those two are truly cut from the same cloth in terms of the amount of work they insist on taking upon themselves. Hubert has been doing his duties as well as taking on Ferdinand’s  _ on top of  _ visiting him here. I had to actually order him to eat a meal the other day!”

Ferdinand felt his heart warm to match his still-flaming cheeks. They were both bad at remembering to eat when they were consumed by work, but Ferdinand considered himself slightly better, if he was to be completely honest. He himself had had to deliver meals to Hubert more than once and Hubert had done the same for him. 

It had come to the point where when delivering meals to the other, they would bring a portion for themselves and dine together. It was endearingly domestic, Ferdinand thought, and a smile rose unbidden to grace his lips. 

“I will inform him of Ferdinand’s condition after I have ascertained that Hubert has gotten at least a little bit of rest,” Edelgard finished, decisively nodding. “So, how is he doing?”

Any hint of mirth or positive emotion disappeared from Linhardt’s face as he set his mouth in a thin line and looked down to rifle through the file in his hands. “When I first examined him, there was seemingly nothing amiss. By that time, it had been two or so days since he was bitten by the Slitherer experiment, so an infection was what I feared, as no known Slitherer magic or poison was known to be transmitted through creatures. But after Caspar and I departed, Hubert continually sent letters detailing Ferdinand’s symptoms - do not look at me like that, Ferdinand, did you really think any of us would not worry about your condition after?”

Ferdinand did think that and did not realize that Hubert was sending status updates to Linhardt. Again, guilt curled up in his chest. He had distracted Hubert from his work and Linhardt from his well-earned travels. Caspar as well, who so wanted to go out and explore the world with his husband. 

Linhardt paid no attention to his guilt aside from a light touch to the shoulder, squeezing gently as he kept his eyes trained on his notes. “Well, you already know that he has not been sleeping, and the professor tells me that he has grown weaker and lost his stamina despite their recent training. However-,” Linhardt flipped to another page, his eyes growing darker. “I have noted that he is also bruising far easier than he used to. After he collapsed and was brought here, he already had bruises where we were holding him. Is there anything else, Ferdinand?”

Ferdinand sighed. What pride did he have left? What good would it do to conceal the multitude of weaknesses that had befallen him since the attack? 

“Headaches. I cannot do my work for as long as I used to. And the sun… woe as I am to admit it, but I cannot expose my bare skin to the sun without burning. I have had a sudden onslaught of vicious, nasty nightmares recently as well, if that is pertinent to your investigation.”

Edelgard stepped forward to take a few pages from Linhardt’s hands. “Your conclusion, Linhardt?”

“Inconclusive,” he scowled, looking quite frustrated with himself. “As I said, we have no knowledge of any poison or magic that would result in these symptoms, so we have no information to work off of. It seems that Duke Aegir will have to stay here for further testing.”

“ _ What?! _ ” 

Edelgard just nodded and handed back the pages. She carefully smoothed out her many layers of skirts and spoke slowly, as if she was choosing her words carefully. “Of course. I will have his duties delegated as necessary. His recovery is of paramount importance.” Edelgard smiled almost mischievously at Ferdinand. “I myself will take on the ones that require someone of equal or higher standing.”

“Your Majesty, I-!”

Edelgard’s smile slipped off her face and she scowled at him, every bit the conqueror she was during the war. “ _ Hush _ , Ferdinand. Do you think me so pitiful, that I have grown so complacent that I am unable to take on a few extra tasks? Am I not Emperor of Adrestia? Of Fódlan?”

Ferdinand found himself unable to reply - the sheer force of Edelgard’s annoyance had him shaking. He had nearly forgotten just how terrifying his former classmate could be. He had nearly forgotten that Edelgard began a rebellion at the age of eighteen and united the country at twenty-three. She was Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, First of Her Name, and when the safety of her family was at stake, she was  _ not  _ to be argued with.

Edelgard huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Besides, it is not as if I have never done the duties I will be performing.” Her eyes caught his and her gaze narrowed into a sharp, piercing glare. “I am merely taking back the duties that were originally mine - the duties that you secretly performed yourself for my benefit.”

Oh, the blood drained from Ferdinand’s face immediately at her words. He was not as subtle as he thought. 

Her eyes softened and Edelgard sat down on his cot, carefully shifting so that even her skirts would not touch Ferdinand’s blanket-covered legs. She took his hand in her own and moved to tilt his head so that he met her eyes. “When was the last time you took a break, Ferdinand?” She asked, her voice tinged with regret. “A truly relaxing break when you did things for pleasure and not for duty’s sake?”

Ferdinand inhaled a shaky breath and forced a smile. “All I do is for the sake of our country, Your Majesty.”

Edelgard’s eyes turned solemn and she pushed herself off the cot. “Perhaps it is time to take that break,” she murmured. The emperor moved towards the door in a blaze of crimson, nodding to Linhardt as she passed, but stopped at the exit, placing one hand on the door frame and glancing back over her shoulder. “I will let Hubert know that you have awoken.”

The fake smile on Ferdinand’s face became genuine almost immediately (he couldn’t even get mad at the smile lines he felt at the corners of his eyes, not when they were caused by  _ him _ ). “Should I prepare myself for a scolding, then?”

Edelgard returned the smile with one of her own rare ones. “A scolding, definitely. I will see if he will also bring some books for you to read during your time off.” And then she was gone. Ferdinand waited until the clacking of her heels could no longer be heard then sagged against his pillows as the stress that had accumulated during the whole ordeal disappeared. 

“You would think that after so many years, I would be used to her… intensity.” Ferdinand sighed. 

“I, for one, think she has gotten more terrifying,” Linhardt said plainly. Sometime during the talk, Linhardt had migrated to one of the chaises in the corner of the room and was sprawled out on it with his head propped up on a mountain of pillows. With a heavy sigh, he hauled himself to his feet and picked up the file of Ferdinand’s papers. “I need to run some tests. My staff will let me know when Hubert’s done lecturing you so I can go over your results with him.”

And with one last, longing look at the chaise, Linhardt left as well, leaving Ferdinand to lie in his infirmary bed alone with no one but his thoughts to keep him company. There wasn’t much to do in an infirmary room, after all, especially not after Linhardt took his paperwork with him when he left. 

So he settled for staring out the window to watch the moon slowly make its way across the sky. He frowned - the moon being so high in the sky meant that it must have been late at night. No wonder Edelgard looked so tired (he didn’t really notice a difference in Linhardt - he was perpetually tired, after all). 

He let his head fall to the side, pressing his sharp nose into the fabric of the pillow and inhaled. He instantly made a face and went back to staring at the ceiling - the pillow smelled stale. 

Bedridden with a thin, lumpy mattress, alone with his thoughts, and nothing to keep his mind busy? This was quite possibly the  _ worst thing  _ Edelgard could have done to him. Ferdinand liked to think himself an imaginative person, which came in handy for drawing political scenarios, but he rarely turned his introspection on himself. Truth be told, he was a little frightened of looking into his own psyche. 

It was something that he had feared doing ever since he was a child, and even more so after the war started. To the world, he was Ferdinand von Aegir, only legitimate son of Duke Aegir, and one of the noblest of nobles in all Adrestia - a title he wore with pride. 

Yet underneath all the titles and nobility, Ferdinand was bogged down by darkness. The only  _ legitimate _ son of Duke Aegir. Ferdinand was no fool, he knew that he was not Duke Aegir’s only son, let alone the first. He carried the Aegir dukedom on his back while trampling the secrets his father left in the shadows. Peasant women who were promised riches, young noble ladies who were promised a title, grimy half-siblings begging for recognition - Ferdinand did his best to make up for his father’s mistakes, but was it enough?

It would never be enough, Ferdinand thought. The sins of the father often weigh heavily on the son, the elders told him. As much as he loved his father, Ferdinand knew they were right. But no matter how much he tried to help the people his father had wronged, it would never,  _ never  _ be enough to wipe away his sins. 

And what of Ferdinand’s own sins? He had known of the illegitimate children since he was a mere boy and feigned ignorance: sickening, awful ignorance. Even at the tender age of fifteen, he knew that he would be making up for his transgressions for the rest of his life. Just a boy and he was already aware of the shadows that ran in his veins. 

If he was aware of it now, then he was all too familiar with it once the war was in full swing. Every day he went out and killed countless soldiers in the name of the country he loved, of the monarch he served. Every day he would come back to his tent and weep and pray for the lives lost and the lives he had taken in battle. 

Oh, how he wept. 

If Ferdinand was not convinced of his damnation before, he was convinced of it the first time he went in for a killing blow and met his opponent’s eyes expecting to see a fierce pride in dying for their nation, but all he saw was resignation. It is noble to fight against someone who is determined to die for their cause, but it is dishonorable -  _ sinful  _ \- to cross blows with and kill someone who does not want to fight. 

Those eyes filled with a tired concession… Ferdinand saw those eyes in far too many soldiers as the years went on and all of them haunted his dreams and his every waking hour. If he was being totally honest with himself (which he rarely was), Ferdinand used his work as a coping mechanism. He looked upon himself and saw a man drenched in sin and the souls of his victims and in his heart of hearts, he knew that he would never be able to atone for what he had done. 

So he threw himself into his work, slaving away at his desk for hours at a time to create an Adrestia where those eyes would never have a reason to appear. If he focused on that, his mind wouldn’t wander to his wickedness inside him. If he focused, he would not hear the ghosts crying out for his attention, crying out for vengeance. 

Even as he lay in the silent infirmary, Ferdinand felt the cold tendrils of despair curling in his chest and tears sprang to his eyes. 

Gods, he was so tired. Ferdinand normally was better at keeping his intrusive thoughts at bay, but recent events… Ferdinand saw himself as barely human, only hanging on to humanity through his determination to better himself! But now he had some Agarthan magic that was turning him into someone or  _ something  _ he didn’t even recognize!

All the things he found solace in - walks outside, the sun, training - had been stolen from him by this dastardly poison. In the corners of Ferdinand’s heart, he thought that it was the ghosts finally taking their revenge on him. Now, with his soul raw and bare, he believed with every fiber in his being that it was all deserved. 

He had been careless and allowed himself to be bitten. He was dishonorable and killed those who were not willing to fight back. He was cognizant of the sins of the Aegir name, yet he  ignored those who were wronged.

It was all his fault.

In the wee hours of the morning, Ferdinand von Aegir succumbed to the despair that had held his soul captive for so long and cried. 

Alone. As he believed he deserved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I POSTED IT BEFORE THE END OF THE MONTH, I MADE IT  
i'm actually the worst at keeping to a writing deadline, but i think my grades thank me, because i have straight a's and i don't have to worry so much about doing well on my finals because my grades are fairly secure.  
i don't know if i'll be able to commit to monthly updates either, to be completely honest. maintaining my gpa is my main priority, so this will have to be shunted to the side a little bit. i WILL update as often as i can, i promise that much.  
i hope this chapter turned out ok, i know it got a little dark at the end, but no one comes out of war unscathed. 
> 
> song rec: ボイスメモ No. 5 (Voice Memo No. 5) - CHANMINA
> 
> (thank you to those who always leave comments! i really love and treasure each one i get <3 I always reply to them too!)


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